"And is sugar your cure for disagreeable people, Miss MacFarlane?"
I heard him ask under his breath as I stood sipping my tea.
"That depends on how disagreeable they are," she answered. This
came with a look from beneath her eyelids.
"I must be all right, then, for you only gave me one lump--" still
under his breath.
"Only one! I made a mistake--" Eyes looking straight into Jack's,
with a merry twinkle gathering around their corners.
"Perhaps I don't need any at all."
"Yes, I'm sure you do. Here--hold your cup, sir; I'll fill it
full."
"No, I'm going to wait and see what effect one lump has. I'm
beginning to get pleasant already--and I was cross as two sticks
when I--"
And then she insisted he should have at least three more to make
him at all bearable, and he said there would be no living with him
he would be so charming and agreeable, and so the talk ran on, the
battledoor and shuttlecock kind of talk--the same prattle that we
have all listened to dozens of times, or should have listened to,
to have kept our hearts young.
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